Lazy Sundays
by A-Frosted-One
Summary: It's a Sunday morning, and Harry has something much more interesting in mind than lunch with his parents.


"Do we really need to get up, Gin?" Harry stretched out lazily across the bed, inadvertently dragging the covers down to expose both occupants' torsos in the process. Shivering at the sudden draft, Ginny yanked the sheets back over her newly bared chest, but not before Harry received a glorious, blurry eyeful that made him wish for the clarity afforded him by his glasses. She huffed lightly and rolled onto her side to face him, stealing a quick peck on his cheek.

"They're your parents, love, and we'll be late to meet them if we're not up pretty soon. Besides-" She gave an appreciative look up and down his half-covered body, lingering for a moment on the tented bulge just past his waist, "it looks like _somebody _is already up." She ran two fingers lightly along the growing erection, smiling evilly as it stiffened into her touch. "Yep, definitely up." It only took a few more moments of this soft caress before he began to arch his hips into the silky fabric in need of firmer contact, followed each time by a low groan as she pulled her hand away entirely.

After the third such instance, he let out a guttural moan and rolled over to attack her with his lips, hands snaking under the sheets to pull her waist against his as he hungrily kissed his way from her shoulder to the corner of her mouth, where he stopped to nibble gently at her bottom lip, occasionally darting his tongue out between his teeth to brush along her skin. His right hand began a slow trail up her back, reaching around to cup the side of her breast as his left hand made its way down to caress her backside, roaming tantalisingly close to the centre of her desire before wandering back for a quick, soft squeeze.

They continued their teasing dance for either seconds or years, each delicate touch a smidgeon closer to the contact they both so needed until Harry finally succumbed in a growl of frustration, rolling over to pin her underneath him as their lips finally locked together. They laid still for a few glorious moments before Harry broke away for air, then began to make his way back down her body, peppering kisses on every inch of her skin as he went, taking care to plant one on each and every freckle on her chest and abdomen, with a few extra on both of her nipples for good measure.

As he reached her hips, he appeared to remember the game they had been playing and slowed down significantly, running his tongue back and forth as if making Ginny give into her needs would be some unnecessary, if thoroughly enjoyable, atonement for his own submission. Of course, Ginevra Molly Potter (née Weasley) had enough stubbornness to match an entire herd of hippogriffs, and she was certain that there was absolutely no way that she would yield. At least, she was sure until he moved his face a little further down and stayed there, motionless aside from the rise and fall of his chest as his deep, steady breaths blew waves of warm air, rushing over her throbbing clitoris and in turn sending shivers rushing up the length of her spine. The shock must have shown on her face as her tormenter let out a quiet chuckle from between her legs where he gazed up at her, breathing in her scent while inadvertently buffeting her sensitive skin with even more hot air in his mirth.

Ginny resisted a little while longer, squirming under his chin, but a few soft flicks of his tongue had her quickly reaching the limits of her impressive resolve, and she pushed down on his head with the hand she hadn't noticed tangling itself in his black locks. Harry put up no resistance until he was barely millimetres from her, where he came to a stop in an instant and remained in place in spite of her struggling, moving in time with her quivering hips.

"Fuck, Harry, please!"

He gazed up at her, his emerald eyes the picture of innocence if not for the slightest glint of mischief, and spoke with mock confusion, as if he wasn't wholly aware of the effects of the intensity of his breath on her skin.

"But I thought we didn't have enough time?" She could almost hear the grin on his face as his stubble grazed her mound.

"Fuck brunch, your parents can wait!"

"Tut, tut, love. Didn't – your – mother – teach – you – not – to – curse?" Each word was punctuated with a lick, alternating between her left and right groin and finishing with a long lick down her centre.

"I'll show you cursing if you don't fuck me right now!"

"As you wish." He climbed back on top of her with a muffled grunt, bracing one arm at her shoulder and wrapping his fingers in her fiery tresses so that he could lean down for a kiss whilst his other hand guided his bobbing erection slowly inside her, before resting his wrist against her hip where he could caress her bum as they thrusted gently into each other. Ginny wrapped each of her arms around him, keeping one at his neck to keep him safely inside snogging range and the other just below his shoulders, her fingertips tickling the edge of his pectoral muscle. As they accelerated, moving back and forth like the well-oiled machine they had become, she felt his hand slip out of her hair and down her neck and shoulder, before settling on her chest, cupping her breast and lightly rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, driving her sensations towards their peak.

"Keep going," she breathed between moans, "just like that."

Harry obliged, groaning with the strain of holding himself back even as he felt himself tighten. He was nearing his own point of no return when he finally felt her contractions intensify, squeezing him in pulses from base to head, pushing him over the edge as her hips bucked against his and she pulled him down by the shoulders and wrapped him tight against her. They lay there for a moment, feeling each other's heartbeat in their chests as they embraced, until the clock on the desk rang out a piercing tone. There was a slight suction followed by a feeling of emptiness as Harry, still half-erect, pulled out of her so he could lean over and silence the alarm before draping himself back over her, sandwiching his moist penis against her hipbone. She could well have stayed there forever in his warm, firm arms, if not for the nagging voice of conscience in the back of her mind.

"You know," she ground out, hating herself for every word that came out of her mouth, "we really do need to be going." He slumped against her for a moment as he murmured an agreement, before she felt the pressure on her hip growing steadily firmer.

"You're right, love. In fact, I'm not sure we even have time for separate showers."


End file.
